Sonnet to Sleep

Sonnet to Sleep
John Keats

O soft embalmer of the still midnight,
   Shutting with careful fingers and benign
Our gloom-pleas'd eyes, embower'd from the light,
   Enshaded in forgetfulness divine:
O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close,
   In midst of this thine hymn, my willing eyes,
Or wait the Amen ere thy poppy throws
   Around my bed its lulling charities.
Then save me or the passed day will shine
   Upon my pillow, breeding many woes:
Save me from curious conscience, that still hoards
   Its strength for darkness, burrowing like the mole;
Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards,
   And seal the hushed casket of my soul.

soothest = softest
curious = scrupulous
wards = the ridges in a lock that correspond to a key